A Raven's Knight
by thevalravn
Summary: Not all fairy tales have a happy ending. This is one of them. Rated for violence and horror elements. Not friendly to the Kurt/Blaine pairing or to the character of Blaine Anderson.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living, dead, or otherwise is purely coincidental. Italics are set in the Enchanted Forest, regular text is in Storybrooke. I do not own any of the associated characters, properties, etc. I make no profit from this. This story is not friendly to Blaine Anderson or the Kurt/Blaine pairing. This story contains blood, magic, a same sex relationship, death, violence, and horror elements. You have been warned. Now, without further ado…

A Raven's Knight

_Sir Adan stood at his vigil, at the edge of one of the fields of a minor village. His company had been sent there for the night of this festival and so far the most exciting thing that has happened was watching Sir Malcolm fall off his horse from drink. Although he was far from the town center, he heard the peels of laughter, the crackling of the fires, and the occasional moan of a couple lost in passion. Tonight the village celebrated and was unbound. Granted, the curate did not approve of this, but the smaller villages remembered. Sometimes nights like this were needed. Sometimes the Dark had to be acknowledged. _

_He felt the lust, the throes of passion on the night's breeze. His hands rested on his belt and he turned his eyes from the central bonfire. His eyes turned towards the lake and he fingers the small token his mother gave him before he was deployed. He looked up and all he saw was the moon dark in the sky and behind a heavy veil of clouds. Even if it was not the wolf's time, there were still other things moving in the night. He wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword as he walked at a brisk pace._

_The figure near the lake was hard to distinguish, even with the light of the fires burning. Adan all but ran as he saw the figure seemingly vanish only to reappear within moments. On this night, he wondered who would be fool enough to swim. While the distance between the town and the small hut on the lake was not great, it was a barren one with only the road and no other houses. He had not asked about it when he had come in and hadn't heard anything from the other men of his company. The closer he got to the small hut, the longer the figure seemed to vanish. _

_Adan lost his footing for a moment as the hard ground began to shift to sand. He looked around and saw only the hut many yards up further on the shores and no figure, he wondered if he had dreamed it all. Magic ran free tonight, he thought to himself, and it was entirely possible he had been fooled. Looking around one last time he turned and began to walk back towards the center of the village when a breeze wrapped itself around his hair. He turned his eyes to the road from the forest when it hit him. _

_It was like the time he had visited the sea as a child, and been towed under by a wave. His father had saved him from drowning, but Adan had always remembered the sensation of spinning beneath the waters. The sensation of being powerless, of being tossed as a die, of being weighed down upon, all of those were on him instantly and he spun backwards. His mother's favor token from his arm and glowed for a second. Whatever had assaulted him swirled around the token while his head wrung. His left leg and arm were numb the area beneath his ribcage on his right side was an inferno of pain. Each breath pulled daggers through his chest. The world was dim save for the flickering light around the small charm his mother had gifted him._

"_Ask me to help you," a high, breathy voice whispered in his ear. Adan wanted to turn his head, wanted to see who had made such a demand of him, wanted to know what sort of being could have such a voice. All he could do though was angle his eyes slightly. In the edge of his vision he caught the frayed edge of an ancient pair of pants and bared feet. Not much to go on for a potential savior the knight thought to himself._

"_What?" he managed to croak out._

"_We're running out of time. The protections of love won't last long, not against It. If you ask me for help, I _might _be able to save you._"

_1,000 questions ran through Adan's mind, but he could feel the power beginning to surge and mass again. The breeze ruffled his hair and he knew he would not be able to survive another strike of whatever It was. "Please, will you help me?" he asked, his voice not much more than a whisper. He didn't hear a response. Instead he watched as the feet moved forward. All of his potential savior that came into his field of vision were calves covered by the pair of pants though. The world stood silent for a moment, and then there was a roar. Light and heat seemed to pour from each blade of grass, from each ant moving silently about its task, and even from his broken body and it flowed to the figure standing before him. A corona of flames seemed to dance around the figure before him, terrible as a sunrise, and then it jumped forth as the nameless force rushed forwards. _

_Adan had to close his eyes as he felt the waves of an explosion roll over his body. Even with his eyes shielded spots danced in his mind for a moment. On some level, he knew those dancing around the bonfire in the village would not see this. This had not been a contest for them to see. It was power against power, a contest waged in the deepest shadows of reality. Had he not wandered from the protections of the bonfire, he would not have believed such a contest to be going on. How long the waves of force and heat lasted, Adan dared not wager. When the spots ceased dancing and the ringing of his ears ceased he looked again. No breeze stirred his hair, and the pair of legs was still before him._

_The feet turned and walked towards him. He saw the legs bend and wanted to tilt his eyes upwards to see his savior. He couldn't even manage that though. Every fiber of his being ached and each breath was labored. Strong fingers threaded their way through his light brown hair. Stillness flooded into him, the night, its sounds and smells became a far distant shore. He felt himself beginning to drift into the deep dreamless sleep made possibly only through the usage of magic. As the world continued to fade away he heard a voice echo in his ears, "Sleep, sleep untroubled by dreams. Sleep until life wakes you."*_

…

Adam Crawford walked the halls of Storybrooke High, surrounded by some of his friends from the drama club. They knew they were low on the social totem pole, but could honestly have cared less about their social status. That, and their tendency to travel in packs prevented the worst of the bullying. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Kurt Hummel walked down the hall. Rude jeers echoed around the sophomore and Adam looked on in sympathy. Kurt had a quiet courage Adam never could have hoped to muster. Being out in this place, just wasn't doable for him. Of course, Kurt had his boyfriend, but whenever Adam saw them together it didn't look like a pair of teens in love.

Adam remembered the one time someone had tried to physically assault Kurt, it had been early last year. It had been a player on the football team, the Knights. Adam remembered the sudden transformation that had taken place on Kurt's face. From calm, detached, and almost angelic to icy, wrathful, and a picture of the lower levels of hell. Adam favored his British mother's slang in moments of great passion, and Kurt had been bloody terrifying. The football player had ended up with three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a shattered kneecap, and (according to rumor) would never be able to have a kid because of the damage Kurt had done before he had been pulled off.

The rumor mill had propounded theory after theory about why Kurt hadn't been expelled. The most cringe worthy, in Adam's perspective, involved Kurt having an affair with the mayor. Adam had heard Kurt babysat the mayor's son on a few occasions, but being on good terms with elected officials did not a liaison make. Then again, this was high school. Where on earth was the logic? Adam shook himself out of his reverie and watched as Kurt moved past with downcast eyes. The older boy wanted to say something, anything. He wanted Kurt to look at him. He couldn't say anything though. Those that weren't jeering at Kurt and his boyfriend seemed to be convinced that the two were endgame.

Adam sighed and listened to the rest of Brandon recounting his most recent date with Chelsea. There was a small smile on his lips. While he might not have been happy with the way things were, he only had one more year of this. Soon he would be in Boston, New York, Chicago, or maybe he would go to Chelmsford, Essex, where his mother's family lived. He didn't know that much about the University system in the United Kingdom, and he would have to ask his mother some point soon if he wanted to get serious about those sorts of applications. He didn't see why he shouldn't though. Any place would be better than here. Any place where he wouldn't have to face his own cowardice.

As the drama club began to part ways for their individual classes, Adam walked past the choir room. He dared a glance. Kurt was at the piano, his fingers still on the keyboard while he sang something. Through the din of moving students, Adam couldn't make out the lyrics of the song. He could only hear the melody of the other boy's high, seraphic voice. Adam wanted to go in, wanted to listen. He couldn't though. The glee club was perhaps the only organization in Storybrooke High ranking below the drama club. Besides, adding glee now would look like a desperate attempt to pad his resume before he got serious about his applications.

Adam tore his gaze away, half wondering what it would be like to actually talk to Kurt. He would never know though. At least that was what he told himself.

…

_Adan awoke slowly, his eyes heavy. He was dimly aware at first of the heavy blankets pulled around him. It took him longer than he would have cared to admit to come to awareness of his near nudity beneath the coverings of the bed. As he scanned the room, memories slowly came back. Each event, the walk to the lake distant from the village, the treachery of the sand beneath his feet, and then the assault from the nameless darkness, all were clear as portraits in his mind's eye. While his form was still stiff and sore from sleep, he found he could move without too much discomfort. Slowly he began to take in the room. It was simply furnished with an oak slab serving as a table perhaps five paces from where he lay and a fire kindled was a small hearth. Tending the fire was a bear of a man who turned to him with a gruff sound._

"_You're finally awake," the man said, leaving his duties._

"_What…" Adan began, trying to form words but lacking the strength to finish his sentence. _

"_My son found you outside on the night of the festival, half dead and mumbling. Your company moved on days ago. We're surprised you survived. Not many survive an encounter with It," the man said as he laid a calloused hand on Adan's shoulder. As he did so, the door opened and in walked a lithe boy. Younger than Adan, but the knight couldn't say by how much. He possessed a dancer's frame, a sharp face, and sea-blue eyes that matched the man leaning over him._

"_He finally woke up," the boy commented. Adan knew the voice instantly. It was the voice that had forced him to call for help. It was the voice that had commanded him to sleep. It was the voice that…Adan stopped his thoughts as best he could as he took in the conversation between father and son. They were talking low and quickly. Although the room was not big, they were far enough away for the knight to have difficulty hearing them. Propping himself on his elbows slowly, Adan began to try to lean forwards only for the world to spin more than slightly. Within seconds the boy was tilting a bowl of something hot and soothing to his lips, and Adan drank greedily._

"_I'll be back before sundown in two weeks," the man said as he exited the room. The boy nodded and laid down the bowl. Adan's stomach gurgled slightly, but the room no longer spun. For this small mercy at least, he was thankful. He turned his focus on the boy again who seemed to be staring at the closed door as if half expecting his father to return at any moment. The boy eventually raised his hand and made a small gesture. Adan saw the bolt slide home and felt his mouth open slightly._

"_My father doesn't know I can use magic," the boy said gently, "and I would prefer to keep it that way."_

"_But you saved me with magic," Adan said slowly._

"_I did, and if I didn't you would have died. Father thinks It spared you because of the protection of love. I would rather him think that. He is a good man. Magic however, is the one thing my mother and I kept secret from him."_

"_Did your mother…"_

"_Ensnare him with potions and spells? No. He is no king. He is a metal smith and sells his wares over the waters. She pretended to be a mere weaver. He had no idea of her power and she died leaving me the heir of her secrets and craft."_

"_But you saved me with magic. Whatever It was … was Dark, so your magic can't be."_

_The boy laughed, and his face transformed as he looked to Adan. His eyes were gentle and the knight wondered what it would be like to awaken to those eyes each day. The thought was gone almost as quickly as it arose, but had been there none the less. The boy adjusted his position as he turned his gaze back on the fire. Extending slender fingers in the direction of his gaze a spark from the hearth traveled to his fingertips. The fire flickered first at his index finger, then to his thumb, then effortlessly to his middle finger. He waved his hand and the spark of fire turned to smoke._

"_What I did was neither Light nor Dark magic. It was older than both. Both the Fairies and the Dark One speak of the Price of Magic, what neither of them will tell you what was the First Magic. It wasn't dreams, it wasn't hate, it wasn't love, and it wasn't fear. It was life itself, blood. And that is what I used to press It back. It had shed your blood and that's what I called to. The first magic, the old magic," the boy explained. _

_The knight couldn't say anything for a long time. He looked on the boys face and tried to see any sign of the high price he spoke of and saw none. What the boy had described…Adan had heard of only in whispers. Such practices were supposedly long forgotten save by the most powerful of the Fairies and the Dark One. Such magic could supposedly shape the very heart of the world, but doing so required a high price of the caster and others. It was impossible to imagine the handsome youth seated near him practicing such a craft._

"_What may I call my rescuer?" the knight finally asked. _

"_If you must call me anything, Konrad, or Kurt if you prefer the short form."_

"_I'm Adan."_

"_Nice to formally meet you, Sir Adan."_

…

The rain was pelting down and as Adam tried to start the car, he felt it sputter and die. This had been the third time and the bus had already left. He laid his head on the horn as crack of lightning illumined the sky. Walking back home was out of the question, his phone battery was dead, and all of the drama club had already left. He had stayed late, cleaning up after rehearsal. He could try to go back into the school;, maybe there might be someone in the office. As he lifted his head he heard a blaring of a car horn. He rolled down his window once he saw the black SUV doing the same. The consistent hammering of the rain seemed to quiet of a moment as Kurt Hummel asked, "Car trouble?"

"The bloody thing won't start," Adam confessed holding the key in his hand as he did so. He wasn't aware he had sworn like his mother. He always did when he was truly frustrated. He inserted the key back into the ignition and was going to try starting the car one last time.

"Don't," Kurt commanded. From a distance, Adam heard a rumble of thunder. "You'll most likely flood your engine. I can take you back to my dad's shop and we can get you a tow from there." Adam dropped his head slightly. He had allowed himself to forget that one of the few out people in the entire school was the child of one of the better mechanics in town.

"You sure you don't mind?" Adam asked.

"The storm's only going to get worse, get in," Kurt said. From the passenger's seat, Adam picked up his backpack. He pulled the key from the ignition, shimmied out of his car, locked it, and all but ran into the passenger side of Kurt's vehicle. Before he could even offer thanks, Kurt leaned back and pulled out a small white athletic towel.

"It might not do you much good, but you can at least dry some of that mop you call your hair," Kurt said. Adam nodded his assent. As his hand reached forwards, so did Kurt's. For the briefest of all seconds their fingers touched. In that second time, at least for Adam stood still. He was looking at Kurt and Kurt was looking back at him. There was something all too familiar on the younger boy's face. Adam felt like he had seen that expression once directed at him, although he knew it could not be so. Their fingers rested against each other and then Kurt's phone trilled at the moment was broken. Kurt answered the call quickly with a "Hello?" and then was silent, staring forward, obviously not looking at Adam who was still looking at him.

"I understand, Madam Mayor, I'll be there as soon as I can. Is it ok if a friend comes with me, if only to use your landline? His car won't start," Kurt asked and Adam instantly flashed back to all the rumors he had heard about Kurt and the Mayor, and then to something else. It was fragment of an image, of Kurt wearing simpler clothes talking to the mayor in outlandish fantasy attire in a forest. The image was gone as soon as it came and Adam was too puzzled by it to even listen on the rest of the conversation. Kurt had hung up and started the car rolling by the time Adam cared to pay attention.

"Do you mind helping me with a baby sitting gig? The mayor's stuck in a meeting and she wants me to look after Henry," Kurt said as he turned on the road that would take them from the high school to a quiet, residential neighborhood (not that there was much downtown in Storybrooke). Behind the wheel, Kurt was calm and focused, seemingly paying no mind to the storm outside. Adam shrugged. 

"I don't mind too much. It's either baby sit or get soaked in the storm I suppose," Adam said. For a moment silence rested between them as the winds raged, the wipers went about their task, and the rain fell. Adam couldn't help himself from asking "So that's what's between you and the mayor then, you're Henry's baby sitter?"

Kurt chuckled a little. It was small, it was fast, but it was accompanied by something like a genuine smile. Adam's heart fluttered at it. "You're the first person to ask directly. Even my boyfriend is convinced I was the one time teen lover of Mayor Mills. Yes, that's my dirty little secret. I babysit Henry Mills, although the kid's too mature to really need me. Despite some of the things he still believes, he's really grown up in lots of ways," Kurt said as the car stopped in front of a crosswalk. Adam didn't see anybody, but a second later, a tall man in a coat came from the left, struggling against the rain, head downturned. It may have been Dr. Hopper, but Adam wasn't too sure.

"And what does Young Master Mills believe in that he shouldn't?"

"Fairytales, however everyone believes in something. Why not fairytales?"

"Your boyfriend hasn't asked you about this?" Adam said with a smirk. It apparently was the wrong question because the light that had been in Kurt's face flickered and faded instantly.

"No, he hasn't. He prefers his own version of things, no matter what the truth may be. Were I to tell him the truth, I don't think he would believe me."

"That's a little sad."

"It's true for most people. You can show someone something, and they still might not believe it. Blaine might be a little more blinded by his point of view than most, but considering how stuck I can get in my own ways I can be, I think we balance each other out. At least most of the time," Kurt had never taken his eyes off the road and Adam had a feeling the conversation was over, at least for now. He listened to the rain as it fell and for a moment he thought about what Kurt had said. There was at least some truth to it, but it was still sad that Kurt's boyfriend would rather believe rumors.

…

_Days had passed, and the knight could feel his strength returning to his body slowly but surely. He no longer had to ask Kurt to accompany him to the outhouse (much to his relief) and had been able to bathe. Kurt had charmed the water to keep it at the temperature he preferred. Adan at first had been overwhelmed by being in the same water Kurt had just been in but eventually had gotten over the sensation to focus on becoming clean as he needed it desperately. Today Kurt was going with him to the forest to get a few herbs he needed for a red dye he was using in his latest weaving project. Kurt had explained that his mother had said if one could manipulate the threads of a loom, then weaving spells would be easy. _

_The forest near the small village was dense, and the sun's light was defused by layer after layer of foliage. Adan stood against a tree, watching as Kurt bent, stooped, kneeled, and otherwise went about his task of picking small carnelian colored berries. It was only when Kurt turned his head and gave a shy grin that the knight knew he had been smiling at the sight. Adan knew he was flushing and looked down the path they had just came and listened for any birdsong he could. None was to be heard save for the solitary croak of a raven high above them, unseen when Adan turned his head. In the stillness that followed, Adan heard nothing save for the rustling of the wind. The knight turned his head to see Kurt standing perfectly still. "What is it?" Adan asked. Although still too weak to use a sword well, his hand drifted to the place where his sword would have been. Before he could say anything else, Kurt swore, closed the distance, leaned up and kissed him. Harshly._

_Adan's head swirled for a second at the physical sensation of the kiss. Then the taste of iron, weakened and diluted by saliva, but still present. Blood. Blood filled his mouth as Kurt's tongue pushed forwards. It was an unforgiving kiss, but Adan was rooted to the spot as magic raced through his veins and the taste of blood transmuted to cinnamon in his mouth. Adan felt himself be pulled into the kiss and let himself forget the world. Distantly, he was aware of the hoof fall of a powerful horse with an unskilled rider being followed by someone who clearly knew how to sit a mount. The kiss continued, Adan's tongue moving around Kurt's as the hooves grew louder and then eventually dimmer. Only when the echo had faded completely did Kurt break the kiss. Adan, whose eyes had been closed saw the world spin back into focus. Kurt's head was pointed downwards. _

"_I'm sorry, I needed to cast a cloaking spell and the only thing I could do to keep both of us quiet was kiss you," Kurt apologized, head still tilted downwards. _

"_Why the need for a cloaking spell?" the knight asked, his head still swirling from the kiss, and not necessarily the magical elements of it. _

"_You heard the idiot on the horse that was too much for him?" Kurt inquired, his face still tilted down, not needing to see Adan's nod, "that was the second son of a local lord. Before I had full control of my power, I let him save me. Now he seeks to make me another trophy in his collection, a kept bird to sing only for him." Adan's mind spun at that. He had heard there were some provinces where people would openly court anyone of their choosing, but had not been to one._

"_Is that the issue, that you are interested in women?"_

_Kurt laughed, and it was a little more guttural than the usual sounds that Adan associated with Kurt's laughter. Still though, there was something entrancing about it. When he finished laughing, with his face still turned he answered, "No, that's not the issue. Is that too much for you to handle Sir Knight?" the tone was obviously a slightly mocking one, but it also dared Adan to answer._

"_It is not too much. Why won't you look at me?" Adan asked resting his hand on Kurt's shoulder. The forest stirred around them, and again, high above them, came the croak of a solitary raven. For Adan, the world was still as he awaited Kurt's answer. He imagined that though the fabric, he could feel the thundering of Kurt's heart, in reality, it was probably his own._

"_Because you'd see me now, closer to as I truly am. It is part of the price of blood magic, it always shows the truth of things," Kurt said, his voice trembling slightly. Adan's other hand came up slowly, letting Kurt know that the hand was moving. Eventually the hand reached the face and skin was against skin. Adan tilted the shorter boy's head softly, trying to show through his actions that he was no threat. He saw dark lines on Kurt's face, the beginning of an intricate web of tattoos. The knight saw gold flecks in the once sea blue eyes. Adan saw streaks of ebony in the brown hair. None of these mattered. _

_Slowly, the knight lowered his face to Kurt's taking his time, trying to give Kurt the chance to say no. Instead Kurt leaned up and pressed his lips against Adan's, gently this time. Their lips met, and the world spun. Still there was the slight after taste of iron, but it mattered not to the knight as their tongues began to dance._

When Henry Mills opened the door he first smiled at Kurt and then looked at Adam with suspicion. Adam felt like a drowned rat and knew he must have looked not far from it. Kurt whispered something to the younger boy that caused him to step back, open the door wider and sweep his arm back in a gesture that anyone in the drama club would have been proud of, or so Adam thought to himself. As soon as he was inside the elegantly appointed home, the door was closed behind him. He saw two pairs of shoes by the door and kicked his own soaked trainers off. Henry took his hand while Kurt moved to a phone. Adam followed the small boy to a closet where he was offered a large towel. Before Adam had a chance to mop the worst of the moisture from his hair Henry was asking him about stage combat and if he rode horses.

As soon as he was dry, Adam began showing Henry a basic fencing sequence. Kurt was off the phone when they were working through the middle of it from the defender's position. From the corner of his eye, Adam saw Kurt looking at him and the mayor's son with an expression Adam couldn't read. Kurt was looking at them, but Adam wondered if he was seeing them. It was what his mother would have called a 1000 meter stare. Adam told Henry to practice on his own as he walked over to Kurt. Kurt's gaze remained focused on Henry, the boy going through footwork that only looked easy. When Adam put his hand on Kurt's shoulder, it took the shorter teen a second to come back to himself.

"Are you doing alright?" Adam asked.

"Just got off the phone with my dad. You're not the only person having issues with the weather. The shop's been slammed with customers needing some minor repair or other. It'll take at least two hours before they can get a tow truck to you, and longer before they can do the repairs. Of all the days to leave my kit at home," Kurt said apologetically. A part of Adam knew this was only half of the truth. There was something Kurt wasn't telling him. He wasn't going to push though. Kurt had a right to keep whatever secrets he might want.

"Why don't you go make sure young Errol Flynn there doesn't break his mother's favorite vase? I'll see what the mayor has in her fridge," Kurt said as he turned with a smile and headed off to what Adam presumed was the kitchen. Adam watched Kurt's retreating back with a smile, but not for too long fortunately. As it turned out, Henry was dangerously close to a side table holding an enormous black and silver patterned vase holding the stems of some tree or other. Adam guided the boy away from the table and proceeded to show him the second part of the fencing sequence. It had been used by the drama club for their recent production of _Macbeth_. Even the local paper had been impressed by it (but Adam doubted that was saying much). When Henry had gone through both parts of the pattern three or four times, Adam heard Kurt reminding Henry of his homework. Henry got out of the lunge he had been half holding and stuck his tongue out in Kurt's general direction.

"None of you lip young man," Kurt shouted back, still out of site, "Ms. Blanchard won't be happy with you tomorrow if you come in unprepared for that history quiz." Henry grimaced and then ran upstairs. Within a moment he was back with a thick book of talking about life in the early United States. Granted it was filled with more pictures then text, but Adam hadn't remembered learning half this stuff when he had been Henry's age. Soon Adam was quizzing Henry about the American Revolution and he wondered just how often Kurt babysat for Henry. It must be quite often indeed if he was able to sense Henry's attitude from rooms away, Adam figured to himself as he asked Henry just what James Madison was called the father of.

A while later Kurt came in with a sheet of fresh baked cinnamon apples scones and US History was forgotten for a few minutes while the three enjoyed the snack. Adam felt warm, at peace, comfortable, and it had little to do with his surroundings. He looked at Kurt and saw, in eyes that he had always presumed were strictly ocean blue, flecks of gold. Adam blinked and the golden flecks had seemingly vanished as Kurt looked over the study guide Ms. Blanchard had given her students and talked with Henry on the best way to handle multiple choice questions.

When the auto-shop finally called for to let Kurt know Adam's car had been picked up, the mayor had just gotten back. The way she looked at him made Adam shiver in a manner that had nothing to do with his mostly dried clothing. Kurt entered and looked directly at the mayor. She shifted her unyielding gaze from Adam to Kurt and Adam watched what seemed a silent battle of wills. Whatever was going to happen, he wasn't certain if he wanted to be around to witness the conclusion. He took Henry up to his room with some of the books they had been using. When Adam came back down, the mayor and Kurt were talking in low, rapid voices. Adam was tempted to think it was a lover's tryst and that Kurt had been lying to him about being Mayor Mill's teenaged lover. That was until he heard the tone of their voices. Those were not the voices any lovers he knew of would ever use with each other.

"You should have known better Konrad," Adam heard as he pressed himself against the wall, trying to remain still. The mayor's voice was positively arctic. And _Konrad_? What on earth was up with that?

"I couldn't have left him there," Kurt answered back, his voice as frigid as the mayor's, colder if such a thing were possible.

"You should have. Once you bring him to his car, you're never to speak with him again or I'll…"

"You'll what, Majesty? His heart is safe, and you know you can't harm me."

"Even without my usual methods I can still find ways to make his life difficult."

"How creative. You know I'll fight you any way I can. This life we're living will only last so long. The savior is coming."

"So you say, but until then…"

"Until then silence, Adan will be downstairs soon and the less he hears the better."

"So much concern for him _Kurt,_ one might almost think you had a heart after all. "

"Majesty, I will not hesitate to put the knife to your son's chest. Even in this world, blood always wins. Would you risk the life of the only thing you may have ever truly loved?"

Whatever the mayor answered, Adam didn't hear through the blood that rushed to his ears or the pounding in his head. What Kurt and the Mayor were saying to each other, Adam wasn't sure if he wanted to make sense of it, any of it. Then there was the threat Kurt had made against Henry. He had seen how Henry looked at Kurt. The young boy obviously trusted his baby sitter and through the course of the night, Adam had seen what he thought were those precious genuine smiles on Kurt's lips. Why would he threaten Henry's life? Kurt didn't even know him, Adam thought to himself. And why had been called 'Adan'? What the Hell was going on between the mayor and her son's baby sitter?

_Adan snuck kiss after kiss with Kurt on their way back to small cottage where Kurt resided. Once he had started kissing the shorter male, the knight couldn't stop himself. Kurt, far from objecting, had even snuck a few kisses back. Each kiss was something new, some side of Kurt Adan hadn't seen before. He could become drunk off those kisses the knight thought to himself. He probably already was. He was too happy to notice when Kurt stopped nor the dark look that settled over Kurt when Kurt's home was back in view. What did sober Adan was the dark carriage. Adan knew it instantly. Kurt's hand was on his stomach and it was the only thing keeping the knight from instant sickness. _

"_You didn't tell me you know the queen," the knight said when his stomach had stabilized. The look Kurt shot him was a pained one._

"_I had hoped you wouldn't need to know that, I had hoped that you would have healed before…"_

"_Before what?"_

"_Before I lost my self control and kissed you."_

_Despite the gravity of the situation, a smile danced over Adan's lips. The knight saw its mirror on Kurt's face. However it was a brief dance for Kurt. "Was kissing me that bad?" Adan asked wondering if the younger man had been kissing him only because Adan wanted it. Did the kissing serve a magical purpose? Adan had tasted no blood. Before he could go too far into the depths of his despair Kurt's hand was on his face and the knight was looking into sea-blue eyes._

"_Kissing you has been the best thing that could have happened to me Adan. No matter what happens, no matter what you may see, know this: I believe in what we can become, and I will fight for it," Kurt said and he leaned up and pressed a quick chaste kiss to the corner of the knight's mouth. Adan hoped the kiss was not a goodbye, no matter how much it may have felt like one. It did not help matters any that he felt as if he was marching in a funeral procession on the way to Kurt's house. Adan would have given his commission gladly to see Kurt's face in this moment, but from where he stood he saw only the way the shorter man carried himself._

_When the door to the cabin opened Adan looked at the queen, standing by the table as if she had been there many times before. He knew her guards were about, but they were unseen. Adan felt her eyes rake over him and dismiss him as unimportant. A shiver ran through his body and he did what he could to control the impulse to turn from that gaze. It would do no good, and he did not want to seem weak. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kurt ball one of his hands in a fist, digging his nails into his palm even as he gave a short bow. "Majesty," Kurt said softly. _

"_Konrad," the queen replied, stepping towards him. The small fire Adan was sure they had banked before they had left leapt and cast distorted shadows on the wall. Kurt's shadow seemed far from human. _

"_To what do I owe the pleasure?" Kurt asked. From the tone of his voice, the knight knew this was an old dance, a dance that had been done before. Adan didn't want to know how many times, but he had a feeling what he was seeing was something close to a duel, save there would be no flash of metal. This was close to the same sort of contest Kurt had waged against the nameless darkness that would have claimed him on the night when Kurt saved his life. It was a duel to be fought in the twilight, and Adan didn't know how much of it he would see. For all he knew they could be fighting even now. _

"_Can't I just drop by?"_

"_When have you ever done so in the past?"  
_

"_You know me too well Konrad, I took care of that little duke for you, I think you should at least repay the favor."_

"_I would have been able to handle Flavius on my own."_

"_And you would have let the human see you, as you really are?"_

"_He's already seen more than I've shown you, and he did not run."_

"_Really?" the queen's eyes were again on Adan and this time he looked back at her. It was a silent contest of wills and Adan stood his ground as best he could, trying not to let all that had been said and unsaid between Kurt and the queen ruffle his feathers too much. The queen chuckled and stepped forwards. Moving quickly, Kurt intercepted her and the shadows cast by the firelight seemed to deepen. Kurt's shadow in particular seemed to spread to fill the space and Adan could almost feel the physical aspects of the shadows. _

"_Majesty, you should know better than to try any tricks in my nest," Kurt said. His voice was low, guttural, and as final as the grave. Adan wasn't sure he wanted to be here, but he knew he had to be. Adan saw something that was unthinkable, the queen taking a step back with something like fear in her eyes. The darkness in the room was growing ever deeper and Adan saw the fire in the fireplace flicker and die. The silence filling the small cottage weighed heavily and felt like a fourth person. Adan wanted to clear his throat and wanted to stand his own ground. Beyond all this, he wanted them both to know he wasn't some piece in a game. However his words stuck in his throat and the silent contest of wills waged between Kurt and the queen. Eventually, the queen gave a small, half mocking bow and the darkness seemed to relent, although the fire did no spring back to life._

"_I will remember, but you shall not always be in your nest, little bird," the queen said with a wolf's smile. She left, carrying herself with pride and pose, and as soon as the door closed behind her Kurt seemed to shrink slightly. Adan hadn't noticed the increase in size until it was gone. With careful footsteps he made his way to the fireplace. Adan followed him with his eyes, sitting on what had been his sick bed._

"_What was all of that?" the knight eventually asked._

"_The queen is one of the few who know the secrets of my power. How she found out, I don't know. She seeks to bind me to her service, and to use my power to augment her own," Kurt said, not looking up from the fireplace._

"_Why? With all her magic…"_

"_Blood is older than light or dark. Blood is blood, and blood always wins. You can't stay here. She'll hunt you down. The further you are from me, from this place, the safer you'll be," Kurt's voice was tired, resigned. Adan stood and walked over he fell to one knee next to Kurt and turned his face up. Even with the light of the fledgling fire, Adan could see the golden flecks in Kurt's eyes. The knight leaned in for a chaste kiss that was willingly given._

"_I'd rather be in danger with you, than safe and alone."_

…

The next day, Adam's head swam as he tried to digest implicit differentiation in Calculus and the passive voice in German. None of it seemed real, none of it seemed right. Last night he had heard Kurt explicitly threaten the life of the mayor's son after baking him cinnamon apple scones. Last night, he had seen flecks of gold in ocean blue eyes. Last night he had heard talk of a savior, but Adam had never heard of Kurt Hummel being religious. Last night, he had heard Kurt call the mayor majesty and the mayor use a name that wasn't Kurt's. Or was it? "Konrad," Adam whispered to himself as he got in the queue for whatever the cafeteria was serving. The name was alien on his tongue, but it felt familiar on his lips.

Sometime between AP US History and Chemistry II, Adam saw Kurt walking down the hallways alone. For the first time, Adam paid attention not to the boy, but to the shadow he casts. It was long, unusually dark considering the amount of ambient light, and not at all shaped like a human. When Kurt tilted his head to listen to something his boyfriend said Adam saw the profile in the shadow. It was oblong with what could only be called a canine snout. Adam blinked hard and when he opened his eyes again, Kurt's shadow was more human, but still much darker than it should have been.

Not fully knowing what he was doing or why he was doing it, Adam marched across the commons and towards Kurt. Kurt broke off talking with his boyfriend, Brian or Blaine or whatever, and looked straight back at Adam. There was something in his eyes, perhaps the same flecks of gold he had seen the night before. Adam didn't pause long enough to think about what he was seeing. If he paused, he might second guess himself and stop. Taking Kurt by the bicep, Adam began walking at a fast pace ignoring the whispers and looks following them. He could feel Kurt's eyes upon his neck and knew there would be a mixture of fear and hate. Looking down he saw those emotions, and one more he couldn't or wouldn't pace. Kurt's lips were pursed together, but before he could say a single word Adam looked right at him. "Konrad," Adam said again, the name now almost familiar.

Shock passed quickly through Kurt's body and he bowed his head, and let himself be led by Adam into a classroom that was seldom used. Adam closed the door behind them and let the darkness and the quiet settle around them. Even with the half-light from the windows, Adam knew Kurt's eyes were on him. Turning towards Kurt, Adam tried to think of something to say. Anything. However all that came to his lips was the name. "Konrad," Adam said, not moving. Kurt moved from where he had been standing to the teacher's desk. In a fluid movement, the slighter, younger boy was all but perched on it. One leg was drawn to his chest, the other dangled towards the floor. Adam didn't need to see Kurt's eyes to know the golden flecks would be present.

"How much did you hear Adan?" Kurt, no Konrad, asked. His voice was tired, too tired and too experienced to be the voice of a high school sophomore. The other name, the name that was not his, Adam didn't even flinch as Kurt said it. It wrapped around him and echoed in him. It was a name that had been his in dreams and dreams only, never to be remembered in the world of the waking. Hearing it, knowing it as a waking man, having it addressed to him, under other circumstances it would have made Adam Crawford pause. These weren't other circumstances though. Adam had heard too much and was beginning to see too much to be startled easily anymore.

"Enough," Adam said, hoping what he was saying was the truth. Kurt answered with a low, coarse chuckle. It was different than any chuckle Adam had ever heard, different from any human sound. It sent a shiver running from the base of his spine to the tip of his neck, and he knew each hair on his body was standing on end. The light from the window outside shifted slightly and Kurt's face was half illuminated. Kurt was looking directly at him, eyes unflinching and the smirk left on his lips was a mirthless one. Adam would have shivered, had it not been for the pain in Kurt's eye that he could see. The disconnect between it and the smirk left Adam perfectly still.

"Then you should know I am never to speak with you again. You're putting yourself in danger Adan," Kurt's voice had the same preternatural tones as his chuckle, yet it somehow blended perfectly with the high voice Adam had grown so fond of. Adam instantly knew this was Kurt's true voice and that it hadn't been used in quite sometime. A lifetime perhaps, Adam thought to himself as he felt the room spin slightly.

"You threatened the mayor's son for me. You said you'd…"

"I said I'd what Adan?"

Adam tried to remember. Kurt's threat had been something he had hoped to forget, hoped he would never have to speak of. Adam swallowed once and tried to speak. He swallowed again and found his voice. "You said you'd put a knife to his chest. You said 'even in this world, blood wins' or something like it," Adam said, his voice barely above a whisper. He was afraid if he said those words any louder that they might become true. He kept his gaze on the sad ocean blue eye he could see as Kurt jumped from the desk and strode over towards him. Despite the difference in their height, Adam knew just who the dominant one in the room was. He didn't shrink back though. He found himself standing his ground, although he did not know where his strength was coming from. When Kurt stopped only a pace away from him he looked directly into Adam's eyes. The world stopped for a second and Adam forgot about words, thought, time, and even breath. He wanted to lean in, wanted to close the distance, to feel Kurt's lips against his and…

"Adan, I know you don't remember," Kurt said, his finger against Adam's mouth. Adam hadn't been aware of Kurt's hand moving or that he had leaned into Kurt's space. Adam wanted to shout of course he remembered, he would never bloody forget what he had heard, what he was beginning to see. There was no way in multiple lifetimes that he could forget. The look in Kurt's eye told him to be quiet, to listen, to stand still.

"You may remember what you heard last night, but you don't know why I said what I said. You can't know now. There will come a time though when you will remember. On that day, when the darkness is finally gone, and you remember, find me. I know the day will rise, I know not when. Until that day though, we must be strangers. For your sake, as well as mine,"** Kurt said. He stood on tiptoe as he spoke this, his lips close to Adam's ear, as if he was afraid the world would overhear him. He then pulled away and left the room before Adam had a chance to react to time resuming to the world spinning again. The room spun as the world did, and Adam sat and buried his head in his hands.

…

_In the early morning they left, Adan leading Kurt in the quiet light that came with the first stirrings of dawn. Adan had decided to turn in his army commission. Before being a knight, he had been trained working in a stable. The small town where Kurt lived had a public one with an aging stable master. It would be hard work, and there wouldn't be much coin. At least it would be honest though, and he could continue to remain by Kurt's side. The morning was a quiet one, the twittering of birds and stirring of other creatures of the woods was low. The only thing that pierced the silence was a low crowing of a large black bird. Adan couldn't tell if it was a crow or a raven. The call made Kurt stand still for a long moment, drinking in the last of its echoes._

"_Why did you pause? You know it's going to take at least half a day to get to the nearest outpost," Adan said, looking over his shoulder with a grin. The look on Kurt's face stopped his grin instantly. Instead he felt fear blossom, like a night blooming flower he had seen in the halls of nobles during his tour of duty. Kurt looked at him and his eyes shone. The look only accelerated the bloom of fear growing within him. _

"_We have been warned," Kurt said and he pulled a small knife from its sheath and rested the naked metal against his palm as he began moving and quickly._

"_Would a cloaking spell help?"_

"_If it would, I would be kissing you right now."_

"_What did the warning say?" Adan had never heard of anyone being warned through the croaking of a crow or raven before. Then again, until Kurt, he had thought blood magic only a myth._

"_Only that we should be aware, and keep our eyes open," Kurt said and began moving quickly, soon passing Adan. Adan had only donned the lighter leather under armor and followed him quickly. Mostly recovered, Adan didn't want to risk injuring himself by wearing the full suit. He could send his armor back later. Right now he just needed to get the process started. Even with all these thoughts running through his mind, he kept his eyes open, looking around the woods trying to see whatever it was the bird had warned Kurt about. Even in the short time he had known Kurt, Adan had learned not to take what he said lightly._

_Time passed and neither of the men spoke. The sun's light couldn't penetrate this deep into the canopy of the forest. It was a little used path and added at least an hour to their journey, but it was safer. Those had been the unspoken words Kurt had made him understand. This deep in the forest, with elms, oaks, and pines all around them, Adan felt like he was in a place no human thing should be. This was a primal world, the first world, but it was the world where Kurt's power came from. This was a place of first magic._

_A little further along the path there was a small break in the woods where there was a almost a circle of trees around an ash tree that was as tall as any tree the knight had ever seen. He could feel his breath stop involuntarily as he took it in. This tree was old, it had seen centuries at least. Had he time, he would have listened to the wind pass through its branches to hear its story. Kurt too had paused and was looking at it like he had seen an old friend or a distant relation. For a quiet moment the knight and the young man stood and looked at the ash tree in its clearing. That was mistake. Adan heard the breaking of a twig from a boot and before he could reach for his sword or Kurt could draw the blade across his palm soldiers were surrounding them. One of them had a dagger at his neck and had wretched his arm behind his back._

_As he locked his eyes with Kurt, the knight heard the hoof falls of a charger, the same one he had heard the day before, when Kurt and he had first kissed. It was only seconds before he saw the head of a magnificent black horse. The rider on its back was less inspiring. Adam saw instantly he didn't know how to proper handle the animal, and that his stance would lead only to bad things. Even at rest, his face seemed condescending. This was obviously the brat of a lordling that Kurt had let save him once. He dismounted the spirited animal with far too much casualness. It almost reared, until an experienced handler took the reins. _

"_So my little bird," the boy's voice was as smug as it was cocky, "I finally have you in my cage."_

"_Only for the moment, Flavius," Kurt spat out the name like it was sour milk or some sort of poison. Adan hadn't known such contempt could be shoved into three syllables. He wanted to smile, to give Kurt some sort of reassurance, but the soldier who had his arm-twisted his wrist enough to cause pain to race through him. _

"_I think not, my little bird. You see, the queen informed me of how much you cared for that," the lordling said with a dismissive gesture at Adan, not even bothering to classify the knight as human, "and if you don't come with me, I promise him a death both slow and painful."_

"_And if I did come with you?" Kurt asked after a long moment._

"_A comparatively quick death. I can't leave my competition alive, can I?" Flavius' questioned not even bothering to look at the man he sentenced to death. In the stillness that followed, Adan's mind raced and he wondered if his life indeed was beginning to flash before his eyes before the headsman had even raised his axe. A story his grandmother had told him as a child came flooding back to him, and instantly the knight knew what he had to do._

"_Before I die," Adan announced and all looked at him, "I have just one thing to say."_

"_Make it quick then," the brat said, his fingers tracing the line of Kurt's jaw, either ignoring or enjoying the rage pouring from him._

"_Kurt, I offer this willingly unto you," Adan said deliberately and that got the brat to raise his hand and look towards the knight. Adan was already in motion his foot coming down hard on his captor's and twisting down and with the direction of the blade. He could feel the cool metal graze his skin in a non-fatal place, and the flow of hot blood. From the corner of his eye he saw it leap from his neck to in front of Kurt where it became a perfect sphere, floating in the air. The world held still for a perfect moment, then Chaos erupted. _

_The sphere broke into five arrows of blood each shooting is a different direction. Adan heard the sound of flesh and bone being split in two and saw one of the blood arrows embedded in the left eye socket of the soldier that had been holding him, pinning him to a tree. The blood flowing from the wound leapt from the corpse to Kurt. On other trees, four other soldiers all hung impaled by in equally fatal places by the blood arrows. Their blood too leapt from them and surrounded Kurt in a protective veil. Kurt made a gesture with one hand and a tendril of blood and stone short from the earth and rammed through the stomach of a soldier near the ancient ash tree. Kurt did not absorb this blood. Adan knew it was an offering._

_There was a wolfish grin on Kurt's face when one of the soldiers rushed at him. The blood veil shifted into a long blade and with a swift movement Kurt had cut the man's arm off. His cries were cut short as Kurt moved into his personal space. Kurt's hand rammed into the one-armed soldier's chest and emerged later. He held the glowing heart high and Adan saw arrows turn to ash mid flight._

"_Borða bræður mínir, borða vel,"*** Kurt half-growled, half-cawed before he brought the heart to his lips and bit into it with a hunger that had one of the soldiers retching. Adan could smell his sickness, and the fear of the others. Flavius had obviously wet himself and was stumbling back to his horse. The earth shifted and spires of rock jutted forth. One soldier tripped and the erupting black stones shot straight through his chest. Fragments of his spine and lungs glistened as Kurt shot bolt after bolt of blood into nearby soldiers, their blood augmenting Kurt's power._

_A brave soul moved towards Kurt in a conservative stance. Flicking his eyes at the man, Kurt didn't even raise a hand as wave of flames cascaded towards him. The man hit the ground, only to be swiftly overwhelmed by a sea of black shapes, somewhere between the sizes of a fox and a wolf. From the trees darks shadows swooped down, heading straight for the eyes, faces, and necks of the soldiers who were to slow or to stupid to have run._

_At the center of it all stood Kurt, surrounded in blood and carnage. He looked every inch the noble Flavius had tried to pretend he was. Twin tentacles of blood shot forth and wrapped around a retreating soldier. His screams echoed in Adan's ear as he was dragged towards Kurt. Again, Kurt's hand surged forwards into a chest and emerged covered in blood. As he ate of this heart, Adam noticed Kurt had grown fangs and his hair was a long mane of black feathers. The hand stained by bone fragments, shreds of flesh, and a layer of thick blood seemed half way between a bird's talon and a paw of some large predator. Before he had finished eating, the tentacles pulled the man's body in two. Adan had to turn away and ignore the chorus of screams that continued to echo. When at least the screams died, Adan looked up._

_"You're not human," Adan said, staring at the fallen bodies and the blood on Kurt's lips. He stood among them, a conqueror and murderer all rolled into one. Blood clung to his clothes and viscera dripped from his fingers. He looked at Adan and his eyes had lost almost all their blue._

"_Half-human," Kurt said, the blood on his face was being absorbed into his tattoos, ˆit's as close as I'll ever get. That's my curse. In the end Adan, my mother's blood won and will always win." Adan stands and looks at the blood stained being._

"_Your mother…" Adan doesn't know what to say._

"_Didn't know she could have a child by a human. Our kind don't reproduce, not in the way your kind does. We make ourselves, and don't seek to make others like us. We know what we are."_

"_And that is?"_

"Valravn,_" Kurt said. The word rang as Kurt moved to one of the bodies, still squirming, in the final throws of death. A swift movement of his hand and the soldier was still, his throat slit, blood flowing onto Kurt's hand, into his skin. Adan could not but shudder. Valravns, Adan remembered silently, were the sort of nightmare creatures even goblins, wraiths, and dragons would not lightly contend against. Their hunger was legendary. Kurt stepped towards him and Adan took a step back involuntarily. The legends his mother had told still circled in his mind. There was a small sad smile on Kurt's lips._

"_So you've seen what I've done, what I will do to protect you. The question now is, would you love the monster-man?"**** Kurt asked, standing still. The wind echoed and the world waited and Adan had no easy answer._

~Fin~

*Taken from _Sandman: Endless Nights_

**Taken from "Mundu Eftir Mér" 2012, English Translation

*** Translated into Icelandic using Google translate, translated it reads "Eat my brothers, eat well."

*** Taken from "Would You Love a Monster Man" 2002, Lordi


	2. Chapter 2

_He is seven when his mother shows him how to rip a heart out of a person. It is a girl, older than Kurt, but still a virgin. The look of horror on her face is something that would have fascinated him were he not so hungry. Looking at the glowing heart in his hand, Kurt felt sharp fangs dig into his lower lip. The pain snaps him from his hunger, from the trance it induces in him. His mother moves behind him, her talons a reassuring presence against the skin of his neck. He tilts his head back and looks up at her. _

"_My little one," she whispers, her voice softer than the fabric she weaves, "eat. Eat and be strong."_

"_But she'll die," he hears himself say. He doesn't know where the comment comes from. It is like he is watching the scene play out below him, and he can do nothing to change it. He feels he is a puppet, being pulled and made to speak. The words, he knows, are part of a ritual formula, like the one the curate recites at the harvest festival he attends with his father. The ones his mother never comes to. She claims it is because the harvest festival falls on her mother's death day, but Kurt knows the truth. Knows that if he follows through with this, he won't be able to attend a harvest festival ever again._

"_Konrad," she says, her voice more firm and the girl writhes against the tree she is bound to with vines, "all things die in time. If you are to live, others must die. It is the way we are. We cannot change it."_

"_Even with our magic?"_

"_Especially with our magic. What is magic my son?"_

"_Life," he answers, feeling the sharp teeth press against his lower lip. He isn't afraid, not this time. His mother's words flow through him and calm him. The girl is an indistinct blur in the far ground of his sight. All that exists, all that is, all that matters is the glowing heart he holds in his hand. In the silence before his mother continues he swears he can hear a soft song coming from the heart. A song as older than his mother. It was the song she must have heard when she had first eaten. It was the song of their kind, a song filled with the slow steady rhythm of blood._

"_And what is the best way to honor that which we kill, that which we need to sustain our life?" she asks. He can't see his mother, but he knows she is smiling._

"_To take their life, their magic into us," he responds. He doesn't notice the change in his voice, how it has grown lower, filled with the need._

"_Then honor your prey Kurt," his mother commands and he obeyed. He brought the heart to his lips and felt its heat, its glow against his face before opening his jaws wide and bringing his fangs down into the flashing ruby surface of the woman's heart. Her scream is covered by his mother's triumphant howl and the cawing of night birds, the only witnesses to his act, to his birth. He is lost in the surge of magic filling him, moving from his scalp to his stomach to his extremities. He tilts his head back, feeling blood run over his fangs and down his lips. He lets out a throaty howl, nowhere near as strong as his mothers, but it mingles with the song of the dark shapes flitting across the sky, and he knows for the first time his true name and nature. _

"_I am proud of you, my son," his mother says. He smiles before he turns his focus back on the heart that is losing its glow and quickly. He turns back to it with ravenous determination. Each bite is a new experience, each time he chews shows him something new. He knows the girl is dead and as soon as he finishes his meal the scavengers will come and devour her. Come morning all that will be left are the bones, perhaps less. He can't bring himself to care though. He is alive, truly alive. He runs a hand against his lips and feels the blood and chunks of muscle slide against his skin. He shudders when he feels a bit of ventricle sink into his body. He turns to his mother, fear filling his eyes. _

"_Our nature makes clean up much easier Konrad. Our power doesn't want us to waste anything," she says as she kneels in front of him. Her skin, which is as pale as her son's is now marked with elaborate swirling patterns alive in the moon's faint glow. Kurt extends a blood soaked hand to his mother and watches as the blood is seamlessly absorbed by her skin when his fingers touch her cheek. _

_There is silence between mother and son as Kurt allows his skin to work. He has never felt his magic more strongly than now. He feels as if he could cause the sun to rise from the west and sink in the east or as if he could turn all the land to water or…his mothers thumb is stroking his face. She has resumed her human skin. Gone are the long feathers that had been her hair. Gone is the dark gray fur that had covered her arms. Gone is the gold in her eyes. The sight of her as human snaps Kurt back into himself and he feels his own body change. He looks at his stain free hands and wonders where his talons went._

"_In time, my son," his mother says, ignoring the shadows slipping out from the trees to devour the girl's hanging body, "you may be able to do all you were dreaming and more. However even blood magic has its limits, and you must know them. Blood is older than light and dark, and blood is strong; but, even blood cannot change the fundamental nature of things." He is not certain he understands, but he nods anyway._

…

When Emma Swan arrived in Storybrooke, Adam felt the ground move beneath his feet. It was literally the truth. He heard about the new arrival as he is walking up a flight of stairs, and the news made him miss a step and he trips forward, catching himself on the bannister only in the nick of time. Kayla laughed at him, and Jason rested an arm around his back, reassuring him that it could have happened to anyone. News of an outsider in Storybrooke was rare. Adam didn't remember any previous outsiders; at least he thought he didn't. There was something in this. Kurt's, no Konrad's words returned to his mind unbidden. However, he fails to see how a poorly driving bail-bond's woman could save anything. What was meant by Savior anyway? Adam wasn't sure.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Kurt sitting at a table. His boyfriend and a blond young man engaged in intense conversation sit near him, but Kurt has a smile on his lips. Adam blinked and in the nanosecond of darkness that flashed before his eyes, he would have sworn he saw Kurt's lips covered in blood and his flesh covered in intricate lacing tattoos. When he looked again at Kurt's table, he saw Kurt shoot him a look that told him to cease looking. Turning back to Kayla, he nods and chuckles when she comes to the end of a story, but only after Owen started laughing loudly. Nia, the most observant member of the drama club looked at Adam. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Never better," he answered, forcing an ear-to-ear smile. It was one of the talents he was most proud of, his ability to smile like that on command. He had lost track of how many people he had fooled with it. He had even fooled himself when he had seen it in the mirror. He shouldn't be able to do it, but he did. It was one aspect of his craft he wished he hadn't perfected, hadn't needed to perfect.

"You know," Nia began, "if you ever need to talk about something…" she rested a hand on his shoulder and lets herself trail off. He gave her an appreciated nod, and allowed the smile to slip to something more subdued, much closer to the torment that flooded him, however he smiled still. He broke away from the smaller girl and moved over to Owen, questioning him about the costumes for the coming production of Macbeth, the same production from which he had borrowed choreography to teach Henry Mills. He successfully managed to banish that thought form his mind as he debated costume choices for the time period, and how to best work with the minimalist set they were constructing.

When loud footfalls echoed, Adam and his friends quickly vacated their tables. A group of the Knights moved through the hallways, looking every inch the lords of the castle. One of the glee club members let out a sound half way between a scream and a whimper and ran into the girl's bathroom. As he turned his head, Adam saw Blaine rushing from the table he had been sharing. The blond and Kurt stayed put. The blond was a member of the Knights, so he had nothing to fear. Kurt however had a particular fire in his eyes. Even at this distance, Adam would have sworn he saw fragments of gold flashing there.

He blinked, and the momentary darkness seemed much longer. He imagined Kurt doing the impossible. He imagined Kurt standing, biting his thumb hard enough to draw blood, and then…chaos. He imagined the floor of the cafeteria littered with corpses. He saw Kurt tilting his head back, thick, dark blood falling from his lips, his eyes closed in rapturous pleasure. He saw Kurt's hands, covered in fragments of flesh and bone, his fingertips ending in wicked claws or talons. He imagined Kurt walking forwards as if he owned the school, no the town, and feared nothing for there would be more bodies, more victims, more people he could use as offerings. In his head, a question he had never heard echoed harsh and insistent, demanding an answer.

As Adam opened his eyes, he wanted to forget everything that had flashed in his mind but he couldn't. A part of him knew what he had seen, what he had felt were true things, the sorts of things that you can't forget or won't. Much to his embarrassment, he felt the tightness of his jeans around his loins and he knew the only way to take care of it would be to run to the men's room at the far hall, the one that was supposedly out of order. He made his excuses quickly and slung his satchel in front of his pelvis. He arrived at the bathroom in less than two minutes, and it took even shorter than that before he is shooting his release into a toilet bowl, mouthing a name he dared not say.

In the silence that followed after he flushed away the evidence and washed his hands, he wondered to himself why he couldn't say that name. There was no way Kurt would have been able to hear him, not this far away. The answer eluded him, a moth dancing in the darkest shadows of his mind, always out of his grasp. Hearing the warning bell for class, he was grateful to be only four doors down from where he needed to be, far away from Kurt. He dared one look in the mirror, and he seemed far more composed than he felt. Praying silently, he hoped no one would call on him. He hadn't done the readings last night.

…

_He is fourteen and the dagger rests against his palm. Looking down the Cliffside, he hopes his control is enough. Air-walking is not an easy task. His mother hadn't mastered it, and she had lifetimes more experience. She had needed to change her form. As half human, assuming another form completely is beyond his power, at least for the moment. He exhales and tries not to wince at the pain. As it passes he feels for the currents of air around him. He steps forward, willing the air solid around his feet. The droplets of blood fall, and before they splatter on the ground below, they become a miniature platform, wrapping around the air and holding it in place. Not traditional air-walking, not at least as how the Grimoire his mother had left his describes it. He steps backwards and watches as he skin knits itself shut._

_He closes his eye and again places the tip of the dagger on his palm. He remembers the formula written in his mother's methodical hand. He remembers the theory behind this particular piece of magic. He remembers and does not wince as he presses the metal blade into his skin. Feeling a small breeze against his newly opened wound, Konrad steps forward. When he opens his eyes he sees that his injury has closed and that he stands on nothing. He doesn't allow himself to feel anything, not even pride. Concentration in necessary to maintain the magic, and he can't allow himself the luxury of any sensation as he slowly side steps. For a second he falters in mid air and feels nothing as he put his foot down. Then stability as the currents and particles in the air around him shift to support his weight._

_With infinite care he takes steps in the other direction, hiding himself behind one of the tall elms. He looks behind to the ledge where he had been standing moments earlier, and then steps forwards, towards the high reaching giant of a tree. Each movement is an exercise in control. He forces himself to loosen his grip on the dagger he holds in his hand. Sheathing it, Konrad extends his other hand, his feeling the shafts of daylight that break through the high canopy above him. As he steps forwards, a large black crow descends and lands on his index finger. Kurt looks at the ebony plumed bird and it looks right back at him. Stillness hangs heavy in the air for a moment, and the half-human is at peace, the contentment bolstering his stance in the air. _

_The tranquility is shattered when he hears the hoof falls of a large horse. The carrion crow flies from his finger as he feels himself tumbling through the air. He has time enough to bite the inside of his lip hard. The familiar taste of blood fills his mouth, but before he has time to spit it out, to reshape the ground beneath him, his head hits a long reaching branch of the elm he had been walking towards. It causes him to lose the trace blood he would need for his spell, but worse, it causes him to lose his concentration. Dazed, falling, he has time and wit enough only to reach and grab for one of the long limbs. His fingers catch one and he grunts when he feels the his body snapped through the effort of holding himself. _

_He has bought himself seconds, he knows that much. He doesn't have long and he is still too far above the ground to be able to land without the aid of magic. As he prepares to bite his lip and reshape the ground beneath him the hoof falls of the horse are louder and much closer. His mother's warning echoes in his ears. It is better to die than to be revealed as a blood magician. The only person you could show that power to, according to her warning, was someone to whom you would give your heart. He silently prays, not to the gods of the village curate, nor to the mysterious gods of the sea. Rather he prays to his mother's gods, the gods of blood and shadows. He asks them not for mercy, nor for peace. He asks only that if he dies that his heart may fuel another Valravn. He asks that if it is indeed his time to die, that he may be the first meal of a new Valran. It is the only prayer he can offer. _

_His finger slip from the bough he is holding and he is in free fall again. However instead of harsh earth and oblivion, he finds himself in the arms of a well-dressed young man with curling black hair (almost the shade of a crow's wing, but not quite) and green eyes. There is a half smile dancing on full lips and Kurt feels his breath caught in his throat. While he had long admired men from a distance, he had never been attracted to one before. Now, so close to this specimen, who is objectively handsome, he feels his heart beat faster. His mother had said it might not be possible for him to feel lust or love, but the swirl of emotions in the pit of his stomach is at least the first of the two. _

"_Now then, what were you doing up in that tree?" the young man asked and Kurt has to think quickly._

"_I was trying to get the flowers of the ice-weed. They grow in the highest branches of trees like this. I needed them to produce a dye," he answers. He is grateful to his mother, both for her skill as a magician and a weaver. Her knowledge of the mundane was sometimes as useful, if not more so, than all of her magical knowledge._

"_You should be more careful little squirrel, a lord might not always be around to catch you," the young man says, his grin shifting slightly. Kurt's stomach shifts in response as he feels the horse move beneath them and as he tries to read the eyes of the lord who is still holding him in his arms._

"_I am no squirrel," Kurt says, knowing he is pouting as he does so._

"_Little bird then. Tell me your name little bird."_

"_You may call me Kurt."_

"_Well then Kurt, I am Flavius," the lord introduces with what Kurt thinks the lord considers his winning grin. It does no favors for him, nor does his name._

…

Days dragged, Adam didn't keep track of them. He didn't want time to pass, not really. He wanted things to stop, or at least slow down a little so he could collect his thoughts. His memories, a part of his mind whispered distantly, but he was able to ignore it for the most part. Only at night, when he was half-way between sleeping and waking does that whisper loop through his brain in a way he can't ignore. It is subtle, but that is its strength. At night he could never have ignored what the voice inside him said, except he always forgot about it in the morning.

When the election for the new sheriff arrived, Adam sat in the back of the hall listening. There was something in Ms. Swan's voice, a type of sincerity. He not only wanted to believe her, on some level he needed to believe her. Her voice and the way she addressed the crowd wouldn't let him do otherwise. When he voted, he would have sworn he felt someone looking over his shoulder, disapproving of him, but on the other hand, he knew it was what had to happen. As he left, he thought he saw Kurt standing, silent as a statue. The look on his face was impossible to read. However, there was a slight upturn in his lips, the ghost of a smile. And not the sort of smile he used at school. It was the smile of expectation, of receiving something for which he had been waiting a long time. Perhaps, all of his life, Adam realized before it vanished as swiftly as it had arisen. Jostled by someone heading into a voting both, Adam lost sight of the shorter teen.

Adam knew Kurt couldn't vote yet, so he guessed that he had accompanied his father. Looking through the mass of citizens, he didn't spy Mr. Hummel, but he saw Mayor Mills. The look on her face could have put someone in the hospital, or worse. He had never seen such raw loathing, such utter contempt. What could have Emma Swan done to her? For the first time in a long time, he wished he had paid better attention to the rumors that had surrounded his arrival. Then again, it was like Kurt had said in that one afternoon they had spent together. Everyone would believe whatever it was they wanted, no matter the truth surrounding the situation. Adam knew he wasn't quoting verbatim, but it didn't really matter.

As he got back to his car, he looked upwards. In the still outside of the hall, he heard the sound of the town clock, the one that hadn't been running for as long as he could remember. He listened for a long moment, letting the echoes settle in the back of his mind. The way the clock sounded, it reminded Adam of something. Whatever it was must not have been important, as the memory faded as soon as it arose. It was only as he was halfway back to his parent's home that the realizations flashed upon him. The clock didn't sound like it was moving forwards, rather it sounded like it was counting down. Something had started, something that could not be avoided, could not be altered. Whatever the clock was counting down to would come. And when it did…

Adam let his thoughts trail off into space as Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear the Reaper" filled the car and he caught himself singing along with it. His fingers danced against the wheel, in time to Allan Lanier's and Joe Bouchard's steady bass lines. He let himself forget as he sang, softly, driving onwards. By the time he had returned to his parent's home, the song hadn't quite ended. He tilted his head back and felt his beanie fall from his head as he let the last parts of the song wrap around him. The DJ moved from Blue Oyster Cult to some teen boy-band Adam wasn't going to bother to learn the name of. From what he remembered, he thought Kurt's boyfriend had gotten a solo singing that song (or one much like it) the last time the glee club had performed in front of the school. Desperately random, Adam thought to himself as he turned off the radio and got out of the car.

As he drifted to sleep, he dreamed things that could not be. He saw Kurt sinking his teeth into a glowing heart that he held in his hands. He saw arrows reduced to ash and a man impaled by a spear of stone and blood, hanging from an ancient ash tree. In dreams he tasted a strange combination, iron and cinnamon. In his dreams, he received an unforgiving kiss from a figure whose face was covered in tattoos. As he woke in the morning he forgot all of these dreams. They were things that could not be, except in a dream or fairytale. This was the walking world, and he was no longer a child. He was a grown man and had just voted for what felt like the first time. He had no time for such dreams.

…

_It is a month since Flavius caught him when he fell from a tree. In the time since, the lord's second son (as he had been revealed to be) had called on Kurt six times. Kurt doesn't know how he feels about this. True, there is the surface attraction, but Kurt knows there is something past it. He wonders if it is because of the sort of heart Flavius has. His mother had said he would need to eat a noble's heart to complete his transformation, to shed his human skin entirely. Is what he thinks he feels for the noble simply the hunger? Is what he wants from Flavius a heart, not to hold, but to devour? _

_He sighs and wishes that his mother was beside him. She isn't though, she has gone back to the night, to the shadows, to her kind. She said it was because she was in danger of losing her true face. Kurt wonders if that meant she loved his father. His mother had told him once she had stayed with Bertram out of gratitude. He had fed her in her bird's body, before she had gained her full power. He had saved her life, and she had repaid her debt. Perhaps it wasn't a grand romance, but he knew his father had loved his mother. That was something at least. In her own way, his mother had cared for his father. Cared enough to leave before he could discover what she was. She had heard the call and had to obey. It was her nature she had told the son the morning before she had faked her death. She could not fight it anymore than Kurt could fight his own nature._

_Kurt looks down at his loom and pulls the shuttle to rest. He knows himself well enough to know he will get little work truly done with his mind so clouded. Turning his gaze from the loom he sees the jug of water. A swift gesture of his index finger and the door to the weaving room is locked. In his nest, his place of power, he needs not to call to his blood. He was born here. His mother had buried his afterbirth beneath the floor. His blood is here in the form of his father. There is no need for more blood than that. _

_With a steady hand, he pours some of the water onto a metal plate. It would be best if the metal is silver, but he makes do with what he has. He looks at the water, at its stillness. Then he looks through it, past it. He feels his body begin to slump and the rest of the room as the water ripples and his reflection is replaced by shadows. All is dark around him, save for the images on the water, coming into focus as he slips into the state between dream and waking. Divination is not his strongest form of magic, but far seeing is a useful skill. It is one he has continually practiced, and his practice shows as the image stabilizes and becomes as clear as the pattern on the scarf he has been weaving._

_He knows what he is asking to see might not be moral, but he cares little for the conventional notions of morality. Blood magic itself was censured by some as darker than dark. Kurt has never understood that notion. Blood magic is at least honest in what it asks of its casters. The price of blood magic is never hidden. That should be enough to put it into a grey category. Kurt needs to see Flavius outside of the self he presented when he came courting. Knowing just what sort of person the lordling is might settle his mind. Kurt might know then if he feels lust, hunger, or that rarest of all emotions for any Valravn, love. He is not aware of having held his breath, but he gives a sharp intake of wind, filling his lungs as he sees Flavius on his knees. _

_The lordling has a cock in his mouth and fingers are weaving thought his hair. The expression on his partner's face, another slim brown haired youth, is one of absolute pleasure. Apparently Flavius is very good at doing this. Kurt wants to stop watching, but he has to let the spell take him to its own conclusion. He watches as the one receiving Flavius' administrations stops him, took him to his feet and spins him around. Little time was lost then as Flavius opened his mouth in an expression of either pleasure or pain as his partner began rutting into his ass. The question of pain or pleasure is settled when one of the lordling's hands comes around and pushes on his partner's backside, easing him in further._

_Kurt is suddenly grateful for the limitations of the spell. It only shows what happens, it does not grant hearing of events as well. The water becomes dark as Flavius is turned face upwards and wraps his legs around his partner, bucking back against each thrust. The image fades and Kurt knew instantly all he had felt. It had been hunger, not lust or love. Flavius made a great show of being a romantic when he had come courting, but he was just as wanton as Tessa, the village whore. Kurt does not judge the boy for seeking his pleasure, but to make such a play at love for one while being so open, so willing to be fucked by another? That is something that he cannot stand. It shows falsehood, and while Kurt keeps secrets, he tries not to lie._

_He knows what he had felt for Flavius was hunger, and now even that is gone. While Flavius' heart will still give him power, it won't be nearly as much. The heart of an innocent, a virgin noble, is the heart for which his Valravn half calls out. There is little Flavius could offer him, even the debt of life was forfeit now. Kurt considered it paid as the only reason he owed Flavius such a debt was because Flavius' in his brash riding style had been the one to disturb Kurt during his air-walking. Had Flavius been anywhere else or been a better rider, the debt would not exist._

_He takes the loom's shuttle into his hand and moves it with slow deliberation. His feet manipulate the peddles and his eyes make sure he has not dropped a stitch. He feels only the familiar cold and dark of isolation. His mother had once told him they would most likely be his only lifelong companions. He had learned to embrace them. Without the flicker of hunger where his heart might be, he cannot even bring himself to be disappointed in Flavius. The boy was only acting within his own nature. Now comes the question of how to rid himself of Flavius' presence._

…

When a second outsider arrived in Storybrooke, Adam feels whatever had begun with the arrival of Sheriff Swan accelerating. Whatever was happening, was happening faster. He didn't know if there was a correct way to feel about it, so he stood back and let it happen. There were some things that once started, could not be altered. Once some fires started burning, you had to let them burn out. He was afraid, at the deepest level of himself, but he owned that fear, and from that fear he drew a form of strength. If he was afraid, he was intelligent enough to be so. He had a feeling that most of Storybrooke didn't or wouldn't acknowledge what has happening.

He didn't meet the man who moved to the Inn. He had only seen him once, in passing. There was something artificial about the man, Adam could tell that at first glance. What specifically it was, he didn't know if he would ever be able to pinpoint. It wasn't that he had an inherent mistrust of authors as he knew some did. Whatever it was about August Booth, Adam sensed it at the core of his being. It was one of the things he knew without being aware of it. It was like how he knew the soccer coach was unhappily in love, or how the school janitor used sweeping as a form of meditation, or how if Kurt had the chance he would burn everything to the ground.

Of a Thursday afternoon, he went to grab a slice of pie with Chelsea, who was currently in one of her off phases with Brandon. Such was the nature of their relationship. He wondered to himself if he should start a pot on how long it would take them to get back together. Chances were by the time he had collected enough money and calculated the odds correctly, the two lovers would have already reconnected and quietly so the point of the pot would go moot. Adam was never one to invest in anything frivolously. It went against what his father, an accountant, had taught him.

Adam smiled to himself as Chelsea made a gesture in the air with her fork. Her face was animated with the special spark known only those who walk the line of love and loathing. As she speared in the air with her fork, Adam play flinched, his smile never leaving his face. He knew that his smile was only goading her on, but this was part of their ritual, their pattern. It was as much an aspect of their relationship as Chelsea's fights with Brandon helped to define that relationship. It was one of the fundamental things, and as such should nor or could not be changed.

The bell above the door chimed in the brief silence after she demanded, "Why are you smiling anyway Adam? Is my pain amusing to you?" He was about to defend himself when his voice caught in his throat. Kurt walked in, wearing a black pea coat and blue jeans that he must have been poured into. Adam's gaze followed the lithe form to the counter, only briefly acknowledging the fact that Kurt's boyfriend followed him in. his hair helmeted down through a thick layer of gel. He felt the smile slide and from the corner of his eye he would have sworn he saw an expression of disgust on Chelsea's.

"Please Adam, you can do so much better than him," Chelsea said. Her tone was more than enough to confirm Adam's suspicions about her facial expressions. He tore his eyes from where the couple sat at the counter back to his friend. The fork hung limply between her thumb and forefinger, and Adam would have sworn that mingled with the disgust was some amusement. However he hadn't ever known Chelsea to mix the two expressions.

"What…who?" Adam started. He hated himself, he was normally more controlled, more reserved. The control that he had prided himself on around his crush object had been slipping though. Ever since the confrontation in the classroom, he had felt it slipping sand-like from his fingers. Ever since he had been having dreams that were more than dreams he knew he had to do more to increase his chances of not being noticed. Now he was found out, and he hated himself. Not that he was in the closet to any members of the drama club, but he believed his personal life should be just that, his and personal. He didn't want to share it with anyone, save the person he was dating.

"Blaine," Chelsea spat out and Adam felt some of the weight slide off from his chest. He sputtered, his tongue as stuck as when Kurt had walked into the café.

"Seriously, Adam. He might seem cute, but dude, have you seen his older brother? You know who got all the handsome genes in the family. Also, you're way out of his league. Hell only knows what sort of voodoo he used to get and keep that boyfriend of his. Don't you remember his audition?" Chelsea asked as she readjusted her grip on her fork before she speared another piece of cake. Adam remembered the fall of last year when Blaine had auditioned to be the lead in _Guys and Dolls_. There was no denying that the younger boy had a conventional sort of leading man quality, but beyond that there was nothing. His facial expressions had lacked nuance, and while his voice had been decent, it had also been incredibly generic.

"I wasn't looking at him," Adam defended quickly. He only realized what he had said too late and began blushing in the moment before realization dawned across Chelsea's face. She now looked a proper Valkyrie, victorious and proud. She looked at Adam, and Adam looked anywhere but at Chelsea. It was too late though. He knew she had seen, and more than that, he knew that she now knew. He was too damned careless, he chastised himself silently. How had he let himself grow this stupid?

"Why don't you make a play for Kurt then?" Chelsea asked, the tone of her voice was half heckle and half genuine inquiry.

"I don't think this is the best place," Adam objected, noticing that his voice was a fraction of what it had been when they had been debating the various methods of torture Chelsea might want to apply to Brandon.

"Bullshit. You know they can't hear us with all that Blaine's saying," Chelsea said. Adam dared a quick glance and saw that Blaine's mouth was moving, with only the necessary pauses to gather breath. Kurt looked past his boyfriend, at something at the far end of the counter, a small false smile on his lips. Adam didn't know how he knew it was a false smile. However it struck him as false in the same way that the new writer did. It was a masterful falseness, and he didn't know why Blaine couldn't see through it.

"I have my reasons," Adam said simply, wishing for once that Chelsea would let things drop.

"And what would those be?" She asked. Adam hated his friend in that moment.

"They're my reasons, and that's all I'll say about it," he answered, his tone far colder than he had meant it to be. Chelsea scowled, but made no other sign of protest. What could Adam tell her though? That the mayor would hurt him if he did? That Kurt had said he shouldn't not until he remembered something that couldn't have happened? That his dreams showed him something frightening, and he didn't know if he had enough courage in this world to take the hand of someone who saw themselves as monstrous? How could Chelsea understand any of this if he didn't?

…

_In the aftermath of seeing Kurt reveal himself as half-Valravn, Adan says nothing. Could say nothing. What is there he could say to someone who is not truly human? Someone he might have let himself fall in love with, if only things were other than they are. However Adan finds himself tongue tied among the dead bodies and Kurt is as still as those he has slaughtered. Flavius has run and Adan wonders why Kurt hasn't gone after him, hasn't butchered him like he has with the rest of his men. Swallowing hard, ignoring the question posed by the half-mortal, Adan asks, "Aren't you worried about what…" he trails off seeing where the horse Flavius had ridden has been turned into stone._

"_Who will believe him? My kind is all but legend. Blood magic is but a whisper, and before you met me, had you ever seen anyone do as I can?" Kurt asks and his hair has changed back into its human form. An obsidian feather floats from his neck and spirals in the air as a snowflake might before it reaches the ground. Despite no longer actively calling to the blood, he is surrounded by rivers of floating crimson that seep into his skin. Kurt steps away from Adan to lean down and scratch a fox shaped dark form with glowing red eyes. It nuzzles his hand fondly, its muzzle hiding the stains of its meal._

"_No," Adan confesses, "but my mother said her grandmother…"_

_He is cut off as Konrad chuckles. He has ceased petting the shadowy fox and is not feeding a crow or raven a piece of intestine that had adhered to his tunic. Adan wants to retch, can feel his stomach churning, but he is resolved to be a better man, a better soldier than those that lie dead around him. He bites the inside of his lip as the black bird chirps in either thanks or contentment and alights from Kurt's shoulder. "And your great-grandmother actually saw one of my mother's people feed? Your great-grandmother saw a wolf or raven shed its skin and walk as a man? Your great-grandmother, what did she see with her own eyes, according to your mother anyway?" Kurt asks and his tone is only mildly condescending._

"_No."_

"_Then what did she see?"_

"_A girl, from her village went missing. She was found dead in the woods, she had been…gnawed upon."_

"_And was her heart in her chest?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_Are my kind the only ones who are capable of killing a human and eating them? Last year, in the village where my father works, a child went missing. His bones were found a month or so later. A bear had gotten to him."_

"_You keep on saying your kind. How are you their kind Kurt? You're half-human."_

_There is another low chuckle from Kurt as he strips off his tunic. The sight takes Adan's breath and words away. Adan had guessed the boy was slender, however he had not guessed at the subtle strength of the body. There are muscles present, not as defined as Adan's own, but more so than he has guessed. Kurt tosses the blood and filth stained shirt on top of one of Flavius' dead soldiers whose eyes will never close again. They are open, glazed in death, face twisted in pain and fear. "I am more my mother's son than my father's," Kurt informs as he turn his back on Adan so he can survey the whole macabre tableau. Also, his hands move to the waistband of his pants and he begins to peel them down slowly. Adan is mesmerized at the sight. He only half hears Kurt continue, "if I eat the right heart, I might lose my human skin entirely. After all, what reason do I have to stay human?"_

_Kurt is naked now and he tosses his trousers away carelessly. Adan is still groping for words, fascinated by Kurt's nonchalance about being exposed. "What about your father?" Adan asks, "isn't he reason enough to….keep your humanity?" He isn't sure if Kurt is listening as sees Kurt's hands making a series of small, quick movements with his hands. His eyes are shut, and Adan watches as a series of swirling lines dance across his body. They are thick, and bleed into each other, covering all of his skin. Then Kurt is chanting, "Little one, my little one, their bones are your timbers. Feast on these children of jail-keeper, man. As your parent roams free, turn them to ember. Recapture this birthright, as only you can."*_

_There is silence for a moment and then Adan is blinded. If he had thought the flame Kurt had called to fight It was intense, then this heat he was wrong. The flames that leap from each body are like small suns. The stench of death soon mingles with the smell of things burning. Flesh, hair, bones, and earth, all is consumed in the ghoulish fires that dance. Adan knows in some lands that the dead are burned. It is done to prevent the ghosts from remaining attached to the world that their bodies had inhabited. It is done with love and honor. This cremation is done only to conceal evidence, and the thick black smoke forms a column that wraps around Kurt's body. He turns back to Adan, wearing a tunic and pants of soot black, his tattoos having vanished. Behind him is a bonfire of corpses. "My father," Kurt finally answers, "doesn't have long in this world. If it were not for my magic, he would already have died. Once he does die, why should I keep my human form?"_

_Kurt seems fond of asking questions Adan won't or can't answer. He stays silent, looking the way the flames illuminate Kurt's face. Even surrounded by death, Kurt is handsome. Even in the light of a pyre, half of wants nothing more than to kiss him. Even knowing what Kurt is, what Kurt has done, could do, and might yet do, a part of Adan is in love. Their eyes meet, and Adan sees no flecks of gold in the oceanic blue. _

"_What about for love?" he hears himself asking, and his voice is a whisper._

_Kurt gives a sad smile in response. "You never answered my question. Would you love a monster-man?"**_

"_I do love you Kurt. I think I've loved you from the moment when you first whispered in my ear. I knew I loved you when I woke in your father's house. I loved you when you used your magic to cloak me, and more so when stood against the Queen. I can't but love you, mother's side of the family and all."_

_Between the two there is silence. Behind them the fires jump and twist. The bodies of the soldiers have lost most of their flesh and their bones are turning black. The statue of Flavius' charger shatters from the heat. Kurt steps forwards and tilts his head upwards. Adan closes the distance and rests a hand on the other man's neck after stroking his face with his fingers. Before either of them has a chance to second-guess themselves, Adan is kissing Kurt. Their tongues dance with each other and the sound of his own blood rushing through his ears deafens Adan to everything. The cawing of birds, the chattering of foxes, the howling of wolves, and the crackles of the flame are as nothing compared to the thunder of his heart._

…

It came crashing down, literally, in the following weeks. It was what Adam had been waiting for, without knowing it, for all of his life. It was the moment that hanged everything fundamentally. Once it had happened, he knew that nothing would ever be the same, and he had been waiting for it. He had needed this to happen, for it meant that the waiting was over. Now he was free to move, to act. However those thoughts only came to him later. In the moment, like everyone else in Storybrooke he was overwhelmed. With the wave, he couldn't _not_ be.

The wave washed through the school like it washed through everything else in Storybrooke. Adam…no Adan clutched his head as his life, the life that had been his before the curse flooded back into his skull. He was at once one and two, the student in the high school, and the knight in love with a half-human. Said half-human had a smile on his lips. His power had prevented the curse from talking hold, and now he could be what he truly was. Conqueror, murderer, they were one and the same role again. Blaine, Flavius, the lordling's brat was pleading something, but whatever it was Adan did not hear. Rather he saw Kurt bite hard at the end of his finger. Even at this range, Adan saw the tell-tail drop of carnelian form.

Adam could feel his breath stop in his throat. He had been waiting to see this side of Kurt ever since the night in the mayor's house, what felt like a lifetime ago. He had been waiting for this and as the droplet of blood fell to the ground, an offering, the nail of Adam's index finger dug into the cuticle of his thumb. He pulled back hard gritting his teeth in pain. However he could feel the trace of blood running down his thumb and catching under his nail. It wasn't like when he had offered blood from his neck, but it was better than nothing. Squeezing hard with the thumb and index finger of his other hand, Adam felt the trickle of blood increase in volume, if only slightly. He didn't see it though, his eyes were focused on Kurt.

"Kurt," he called out, his voice echoing through the now still cafeteria. Blaine turned to Adam and through his fear shot the other boy a poisonous look. Adam didn't care. "I offer this willingly unto you," Adam repeated. He knew what could happen next, and he didn't care. He knew what Kurt might do with the offering, his blood, but Adam didn't care. All that mattered to Adam was that Kurt knew that he remembered. All that mattered to Adam was for Kurt to know that Adan still loved him, regardless if he was man, monster, or both. All that mattered to Adam was that he do this, that he enhance the power his beloved had at his finger tips. It was a small offering, but any blood given willingly, shed willingly, had a special charge. He watched as the pooled blood of his thumb became a narrow stream that wrapped around Kurt's body.

Any disgust Blaine had left had vanished as the blood became a small serpent wrapped around Kurt's fingers. A tall boy with dark brown hair and dark hazel eyes moved forwards and the blood serpent became a thin blade, lashing out and striking him across the chest. The boy fell, groaning. Not a fatal cut, but one producing more blood and the blade became thicker, longer, a scimitar of crimson hanging in the air. A blond boy, one of the glee club, came forward, talking rapidly. Kurt turned his gaze on him and the boy stopped in his tracks before a low scream came from his throat. The blond clutched his head, trying to cover his nose, but it was pointless. Droplet of blood erupted through the space in his fingers. The floated around Kurt's body until they settled above his shoulder blade, splattering and becoming the outline of wings.

Blaine had not remained still during this display of power. While the rest of the cafeteria stared in shock, in horror at the revelation of Blood Magic's endurance in this world supposed to be without magic, Blaine had tried to run. Rather than cut him down with the scimitar of blood, Kurt's right foot slid forwards as he extended his right hand with his fingers pointed down. He flicked his fingers upwards suddenly as his weight dropped. Blaine stopped in his tracks, frozen in place. Kurt's left hand shot up as he dragged the right foot back. Blaine twisted, and now all could see the expression of unbelief and fear etched onto his face. He was jerked forwards, the tips of his toes scratching across the ground as Kurt made miniature adjustments with his hands and feet. Several people tried to rush the blood magician, but the wings and blade swung at them, warding them off. In some cases, the blade cut or the wings sliced, and the new blood added new layers of protection around Kurt.

Blaine was now face to face with Kurt and Adam stood silent. He had to watch this. He had waited for this confrontation ever since the enchanted forest. Kurt stood, the conqueror, the king, unrepentant for his use of magic older than dark or light. Kurt moved into Blaine's space and Adam saw the gold in Kurt's eyes and talons at the ends of his fingertips. "If you ever speak to me again, I will make this look like nothing. You know what I can do, _Flavius_. I would recommend you remember that." Kurt ignored the dark stain spreading across his ex-boyfriend's crotch. He flexed his fingers and Blaine fell to the floor, shivering.

Not bothering to vanish the gold from his eyes, the dark feathers that had appeared in his hair, or outlines of his tattoos, Kurt strode over to Adam. Adam returned the gesture, not caring about the whispers that followed him. He tilted his head down and lifted his fingers to Kurt's face. Kurt wrapped his arms around the taller, older boy and leaned up. They kissed, deeply, with hunger, remembering the last time they had been as such, surrounded by death. Now there was only life around them, and the roads they would walk together.

*Lyrics altered from "Hearthfire", Sassafrass, _Eclectic II_, 2009

**Lyrics from "Would You Love a Monsterman" Lordi, _Get Heavy_, 2002


End file.
